


The story doesn’t write itself (it’s all worth it in the end)

by LouiseLouise



Series: Christmas 2019 with the 118 [7]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Buck writes sometimes and he knows the struggle okay, Christmas, Christopher Diaz - Freeform, Domestic Fluff, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-19 03:43:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22304710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LouiseLouise/pseuds/LouiseLouise
Summary: Buck was not expecting Eddie to show up for dinner and Eddie was not prepared to find out about Buck’s adorable secret hobby.orThe one where Buck tries to write a story and Eddie helps.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz
Series: Christmas 2019 with the 118 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1560436
Comments: 48
Kudos: 362





	The story doesn’t write itself (it’s all worth it in the end)

**Author's Note:**

> So. I started writing this in November but it took me forever to finish it (because I don't have an Eddie to help me, I guess) so here, have some belated Christmas fluff ;)
> 
> Update (Dec. 2020) there is now art for this story [here on AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28149681)

Eddie lets himself into Buck's apartment using the spare key his friend has given him a while back. They have the night off and he thought he'd surprise him with food and a movie. Sure it sounds a little bit like a date, but it’s not. It’s just regular things best bros do all the time and absolutely not some subtle move to try and court him because that would be weird. And very inefficient so far.

Anyway he walks into the living room to see Buck on the couch hunched over his laptop and mumbling at it.

"Pretty sure this is not how butts work but who cares," Buck says or at least Eddie thinks he hears because that doesn't make a lot of sense. Unless. He said butts, right? Could he be... watching... porn? Should Eddie back away and leave? Or seize the opportunity to embarrass his best friend?

"Am I interrupting?" Eddie decides to ask. Buck jumps and yaps, almost dropping his laptop as he turns towards Eddie while closing said laptop so fast it could've broken it, reinforcing the idea that he's watching something private.

"No, what do you mean?" Buck asks with the worst fake innocent look on his face.

"Having some me time? Online? I promise I won't judge," Eddie quickly adds, trying to keep his face as neutral as can be and not think about Buck with a hand down his pants while looking at butts. He stops his brain from wondering what kind of porn his best friend watches because 1. Totally inappropriate and 2. Even if Buck’s into butts it doesn't mean guy’s butts and it certainly doesn't mean he'd be into Eddie’s butt. Or other parts of Eddie for that matter.

"It's not what you think," Buck says waving at Eddie to come sit by his side. He opens the laptop again and slightly turns it so Eddie can see the screen. No porn in sight. "I-- ok, first you promise you won't judge?"

"I already did but yeah, pinky promise," Eddie holds out his hand waiting for Buck to interlace his finger with his own. 

"Okay. I'm writing," Buck says, without the usual confidence Eddie’s seen him display when sharing his interests.

Eddie frowns, and lets down his hand, pinky finger still wrapped around Buck’s. This is Buck's big secret? "Who are you writing to?"

Buck whines. "Not _to_. It’s not a letter, it’s a novel. Well some kind of novel. I'm wri-- trying to write a freaking story. Emphasis on trying." He scrubs at his face and Eddie follows the movement with fascination. Buck takes the man’s silence for what’ it’s not, “told you it you’d judge.”

Eddie smiles. "You write?" It's not something he would've pictured Buck doing but it's not that extravagant either, what with his passion for online research and his kid-like imagination that never cease to amaze Eddie.

Buck shrugs. "I took some classes in college hoping I could impress that cute guy who was into artsy stuff. The plan failed spectacularly,” Buck says smiling fondly at the memory, “and I wasn't really good at writing either so I kinda gave up. But I got this idea recently and it won't leave me alone so I figured I'd give it a try."

There’s a lot to unpack here and Eddie does his best not to focus solely on the “cute guy” part of it because Buck said that casually, like it’s no big deal so Eddie can’t make a big deal out of it either.

"What are you working on?" he asks. "If you wanna share, of course."

Buck smiles. “It’s about reindeers, and Christmas. It’s for kids, it’s not very interesting.”

“Why are you downplaying it like that?” Eddie can’t stop himself from asking.

“Because it’s just a silly idea, it’s probably been done ten times already and the writing itself is…. not good.”

Eddie frowns. “Are you making it to be read? Or just for you?”

“To be read. I mean it was the plan, to make it some kind of Christmas gift but now I’m not sure. I can still find a better gift.” Buck stares at the screen, the fingers of his free hand hovering above the keyboard. 

“What’s the story about?” Eddie says, lifting their intertwined fingers to Buck’s eye level, reasserting the promise he made not to judge.

Buck smiles. “It’s about that cute little reindeer with very wobbly legs, who dreams about being on Santa’s team on Christmas Eve to give the kids their presents, and he’s not sure he can make the team because of his legs, but he tries anyway.”

Eddie bites his lip to keep his emotions in control and his heart from exploding, because the reindeer with wobbly legs, it has to be about--. “Do you-- hmm,” he pauses, “so is it for Chris by any chance?” 

Buck blushes and nods. “Yeah it’s stupid I know, it’s not even fun he’d probably hate it. And me.” Buck shakes his head and closes the laptop again, putting it away on the coffee table.

“First of all Chris never hates anything, not even brussel sprouts so. Maybe when he’s a teen, who knows? but we have time before that,” Eddie chuckles. 

“That doesn’t mean it’s good, though.”

“Buck, you’re writing a story just for him, that’s gonna make you his hero, more than you already are.” Eddie smiles, fingers absentmindedly brushing through Buck’s hair. He’d hug him right now if he wasn’t scared of making things weird between them. But seriously, who does that? Who just decides to write a story specifically for his friend’s son?

“Maybe. But he deserves a good story, you know?”

Eddie recognizes the doubts in Buck’s voice, he’s heard the same from his sister growing up. And even when she got her first gallery show, she was doubting. Even when their mother framed the newspaper article singing the praises of the promising young artist and her groundbreaking sculptures. Doubts. Always.

“Are you trying your best?” Eddie asks, taking the same approach he does with his son, though he’d never admit that to Buck.

“I’ve been trying for the past week, but it’s--” Buck sighs.

“Is there anything you could do to make it better?” Eddie continues, not letting him dwell on negativity. 

Buck thinks in silence for a moment. “I need to at least finish the first draft, so finding a proper ending, just that last sentence to really close the story, highlight the moral of it all, you know?”

“Like, _and they lived happily ever after_?”

Buck nods and grins. “Yeah like that. Then I need to edit it which means printing it so I can read it on a different medium because I remember our professor said it helps to see your work with fresh eyes, like you’re just a reader and not the author.”

“Okay, then,” Eddie says, lifting their hands to press a kiss on Buck’s skin, barely registering the intimacy of what he’s just done. “You do that and I’ll heat up the food.”

“Thank you Eds,” Buck says staring at him, before going back to his laptop. “Okay brain, let’s do this.”

-

By the time the food is ready, Eddie hears the sound of the printer buzzing and Buck talking to the machine, asking to not fuck up this time. He brings the dishes to the coffee table but Buck is now so lost reading the first page of his story he doesn’t notice that dinner is served.

“Open,” Eddie says, holding a spoon full of food under Buck’s nose.

Buck turns his head, almost knocking down the spoon. “Shit sorry man I didn’t-- “ he says and as Eddie doesn’t move the spoon away, Buck opens his mouth and lets Eddie feed him.

“You read, I take care of the rest,” Eddie winks at Buck.

Buck stays still for a moment, staring at Eddie who’s starting to wonder if he might be overstepping, but he then goes back to reading and scribbling notes on it, accepting the food from Eddie without a word.

“Okay,” Buck finally says. Eddie’s cleaning up the dishes when Buck stands up and drops the newly printed pages on the counter. “I think it’s done?”

“Is it a question?” Eddie turns around from the sink to find Buck standing in front of him, with glasses on, which is how Eddie finds out he apparently has a thing for men in glasses. Or maybe it’s just Buck wearing glasses. Which is. Perfect. Not inconvenient at all. 

Buck sighs, too preoccupied by his work to notice Eddie’s turmoil. “It’s… yeah it’s done, the story is complete, I just don’t know if it works.”

Eddie knows that Christopher will adore whatever Buck wrote him, and that he doesn’t have the expectations of a NYT critic, but there’s no way to tell Buck that without sounding like ‘ _you wrote garbage but it’s okay the kid’s not picky_ ’. 

“Would you like me to read it?” he says instead with what he hopes is his most casual detached tone.

Eddie sees the conflict on Buck’s face, taking his time before answering the question.

“Maybe?”

Eddie chuckles. “Your choice, Ev, but you know if you give it to Chris I’ll get to read it anyway right?”

“Yeah yeah I know. But what if you hate it?”

“I can lie. I’m pretty sure I won’t have to but I can, you tell me.”

“Man you have way too much faith in me for someone who’s never even read a thing I wrote,” Buck chuckles.

“I can dig out my pom poms if you need them,” Eddie laughs.

Buck grins. “Your-- sorry, pom poms? Eddie Diaz are you telling me that when you talk about your football days, you mean as a cheerleader and not a football player?”

“We all have our secrets, Mister _I took creative writing classes to impress a boy_ ,” Eddie teases.

“Touché,” Buck says, a hand to his heart. “Guess I have to let you read it then,” he adds, sliding the stack of papers towards Eddie. “Be gentle okay?” he says with a serious tone, the shyness and doubts back on his face.

Eddie nods and grabs the papers, finally having an excuse to look away from the distracting sight of Buck with glasses.

-

Buck is nervous the entire time it takes Eddie to read his story, which is not long but way too long when you’re the one waiting for your best friend to validate your work, or tear it to shreds. He busies himself folding some laundry on his bed. 

“Possibly the worst folding job ever,” he mumbles to himself right before Eddie shows up at the top of the stairs.

His friend stays silent for a while and Buck starts to panic. “That bad?” he asks. “Wait why are your eyes red? You cried because you don’t know how to tell me it’s a catastrophe, isn’t it?”

Eddie shakes his head no and comes to sit beside Buck on the edge of the bed.

“So,” he starts, slowly and sniffing, “the reindeer with wobbly feet, he’s terrible at walking but actually the best at flying?” Eddie’s biting the inside of his cheek to stop the tears from flowing back. “Fuck Buck that’s--” he takes a deep breath and clears his throat. “He’s gonna love it,” he finally says.

“Yeah?” Buck’s smile is small but it’s better than all the doubting faces Eddie’s watched him go through since he got here hours ago.

He nods and clears his throat. “Yeah. And I love it, just in case it’s not clear enough, I freaking love it.” _And you. I freaking love you_ Eddie doesn’t say, but he feels it with all his heart.

Buck sighs in relief, and his smile grows wider. “I’d never thought I’d see Edmundo ‘ _I’m badass under pressure_ ’ Diaz crying over a Christmas fairytale,” Buck teases.

“Oh shut up, it’s your fault Buckley,” Eddie snorts.

With that the tension is lifted and Buck seems to gain back his confidence. “So I was thinking of printing the story on the left page to leave the right one blank, he says, “so Chris can draw the story, if he wants, what d’you think?”

Eddie nods, his heart still beating way faster than it should, overwhelmed by all the emotions of the evening, by the kindness radiating from Buck. “Yeah that would be perfect,” he says, wondering why is it that every time he thinks he’s over his stupid crush, Buck has to come and do some adorable shit like this that melts his heart.

"What?" Buck asks furrowing his brows.

"What what?" Eddie gets out of his reverie.

"You were saying something about a stupid crush? For me?"

"Outloud?"

Buck nods.

"Oh." Fuck. Fuuuuck fuck fuck. Of course Eddie knew he’d ruin everything at some point but he’s still not ready for the aftershocks.

“Eddie?”

Eddie hums, trying to come up with an explanation, or an excuse, or any reason to just leave and go hide in a hole until Buck forgets about this, but Buck is just moving closer on the bed to sit next to him and it’s not helping his brain to function.

“Eddie, do you have a crush on me?” Buck asks and Eddie can swear it’s the same tone he uses with Christopher when the kid has a hard time talking about his feelings.

“Maybe?”

“Is that a question?” Buck puts a hand on Eddie’s knee to stop it from jolting nervously, which Eddie hadn’t even noticed.

He shakes his head and sighs, closing his eyes. “I do have a crush on you. Sorry, I wasn’t planning on saying anything. I made it weird I should leave now.” He tries to stand up but Buck’s hand is now up on his leg, pressing on his inner thigh, sending shiver down his spine. “Or you could stay and let me tell you about that crush I have on you, too?”

Eddie’s head jolts towards Buck, eyes wide open now. “You-- you do? too? A crush?” Words are hard, don’t blame him, of the two he’s not the writer. It’s even harder when Buck leans in, slowly, look flickering between Eddie’s lips and his eyes before pressing his mouth on Eddie’s and it’s so soft at first but then it’s like a dam has broken and they both try to kiss and touch the other as much as can be. It’s messy but it feels so good, so right and they make out like teenagers whose parents are not home, rolling over on the fresh laundry, happy just kissing each other and mingling their limbs together, until they’re both out of breath, lying on the bed side by side.

“So did you do all this to try and impress a cute boy again?” Eddie asks when his lungs and lips are ready to work properly again.

“A cute boy and his dad, yeah totally,” Buck laughs, kissing Eddie’s temple softly before getting up. Eddie whines a bit at the loss, making Buck smiles. “Hey if you wanna sleep here tonight I need to put the laundry away.”

“Sleep?”

“Sleep,” Buck says seriously. “We have time for whatever comes next right?”

They do, they do have all the time now, Eddie thinks, gathering the pages from the floor where they fell during their make out session. "Wait where were the butts?" he asks suddenly remembering what Buck said earlier. 

"The what?" Buck gets out of the bathroom frowning.

"Butts. Asses. Plural. When I came in you were talking about how butts work."

Buck frowns and looks at the pages in Eddie’s hand, searching for a clue to understanding Eddie’s question. "Ooooh no it's not... " he smiles. "I was in the middle of a very very long sentence, like three paragraphs long with commas and ifs and _buts_ and it ended up not making any sense."

Eddie smiles. “So you fixed it?”

“Killed it and rewrote it entirely, sometimes it’s easier to just start fresh,” Buck grins. “Other times,” he says straddling Eddie’s lap, “what you already have doesn’t need fixing,” he presses his lips on Eddie’s mouth. 

Eddie rest his hands on Buck’s hips. “Does that line usually work?” he jokes and Buck bursts in laughter. “You tell me,” Buck says, kissing Eddie’s neck and more. 

They fall asleep between kisses, lulled by exhaustion and the promise of happy tomorrows.

-

_Christmas Day_

It’s still early and everything is quiet around them. Christopher woke up with the energy of a thousand suns, jumping on his dad’s bed until Eddie cave in and got up, both of them joining Buck in the kitchen. 

“Already up?” Eddie asks pressing a soft kiss on the man’s lips.

Buck smiles. “Couldn’t sleep anymore. I’m kinda nervous, about the gift.”

Eddie smiles in turn. “Good nervous or stressed nervous?”

“Kinda both? No, mostly good nervous, I can’t wait for Chris to open it and it’s thanks to you. So thank you, for being a perfect cheerleader,” he says, tugging Eddie into a hug, pressing his lips in the crook of his neck.

An hour later there’s hot chocolate on the coffee table and torn wrapping paper all over the floor, with only one more present to open. Christopher holds the book, taking the time to decipher the title, finding Buck’s name in the bottom corner.

“Does this mean you write it? For me?” he asks jumping into Buck’s arms. 

“I did,” Buck says, voice muffled in Christopher’s embrace. “Wanna read it?”

The kid nods and nods again, wide smile stuck on his face and the more Eddie looks at them, the more it feels like everything’s slowly fallen into place in his life, without him really realizing it.

Of course Christopher loves the story, because it has magic in it, because it’s about a reindeer with wobbly legs just like him. Because it comes from one of his favourite people in the world and _that_ is the greatest gift of all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for pretending it's still Christmas time and reading this! You can find it [here on tumblr](https://theladyandthewolves.tumblr.com/post/190327047398/the-story-doesnt-write-itself-its-all-worth-it)  
> Like always, kudos, emojis and comments make me wanna write more ♥ (though I know I'm behind on replying to comments, please forgive me I'll do my best next week)


End file.
